“It's the flywheel!” I said. “That goddamn flywheel that we tied the body to. There's just a chance they might trace it back to me. It came out of my dad's old car and I just learned that there aren't many exactly like it.”
She thought about it. “That seems pretty farfetched.”
“My robbing a payroll and committing murder is pretty farfetched, too, but I did it.”
“Has anybody said anything to you, anything at all?”
“No.”
She poured the soup into a bowl. “Then stop worrying about it.”
“I was just beginning to worry. But I let her take the soup in to Sheldon and watched him sip from the spoon a few times before he fell back to sleep. I took Paula's arm when she came back to the kitchen.
“This is too damn risky,” I said, “sitting here right under Otis Miller's nose. You two have got to get out of here, out of Oklahoma.”
She smiled wryly. “You weren't so eager to get rid of me last night.” She jerked away from me and rinsed the bowl at the kitchen sink. “Besides,” she said, “Karl can't be moved.”
“He'll have to be moved. My helper at the station is beginning to wonder what the hell is going on back here.”
“Let him wonder. He's just a stupid farmer.”
“Your husband thought I was a stupid farmer, too, but I cut in for half of that payroll. Get this through your head: We're not as stupid out here as you people seem to think. And we've got a sheriff that's tough, as tough as they come.”
She smiled teasingly, and those white arms of hers went around my neck. “You don't really want me to go, do . you, Joe?” She knew the effect she had on a man when she plastered herself against him like that. I grabbed her, holding her tight enough to crush her, but she only smiled.
“Not now, Joe.”
“You started it, I didn't!” I forced her head back, and when our mouths came together the contact shocked both of us. Everything went to hell when I touched her. I didn't give a damn about anything or anybody.
I don't know how long we stood there wound up in each other, and I don't know how long Ike had been hollering before I finally heard him.
“Joe! Joe, you in there?”
I almost ignored him. I was tempted to tell him to get away and leave me alone, because that's the kind of effect Paula Sheldon had on me.
“Joe, the Sheriff wants to talk to you.”
That jerked me out of it. It was like having ice water poured on you. Paula hissed, “The Sheriff?” and she couldn't have got away from me faster. “What does he want?”
“I don't know.”
“Get out there and see. We can't have him coming in here.”
I felt sick. I couldn't imagine what Otis Miller wanted with me, but every bad thing in the world flashed through my mind as I stepped to the door, where Ike was waiting.
“Who did you say wanted me?”
“The Sheriff. He and Ray King are over by your cabin.”
Ike was beginning to think things. There were questions behind those sleepy eyes of his that I didn't like at all. Just before I opened the door I thought of something. “Just a minute, Ike.” I went back to the kitchen, where Paula was standing like a statue.
“Joe, get out of here!”
I headed straight for the kitchen stove, lifted the grating from one of the cold burners, and smeared my hands good with the collection of burned grease at the bottom. Then I got out.
Ike had already gone back to the station when I came out of Number 2, and the Sheriff and Ray King were standing beside their car, which was parked in front of my own cabin.
“Hello, Sheriff. Hello, Ray. Always something breaking down in a place like this—I just had a kitchen stove to fix for those people.” I made sure that they saw the grease on my hands. The Sheriff was sweating, and so was Ray, but I had never felt colder than I was at that moment.
“Just wanted to ask a few questions, Joe,” Otis said, “if you can spare us the time.”
“Sure, but let's go inside where I can wash up a little.” I needed the time to get set for whatever was coming. We went inside and I went into the bathroom and washed my hands. When I came out I felt that I was as ready as I would ever be.
“All right, fellows, what can I do for you?”
Otis sat on the edge of the bed, Ray took a chair, and I stood there in the doorway. “Well,” the Sheriff said slowly, “it isn't much, but I can't afford to overlook a thing. You've heard that they found Otto's-body in the lake.”
Not trusting my voice, I nodded.
“He was a fine old man,” Ray King said softly, and I nodded again, watching the Sheriff. Otis was staring down at his hands, and I couldn't tell what was going on in his mind. Ray King went on: “The picture's pretty clear now, Joe. Old Otto was killed during the robbery and his fingerprints were planted all over the place to throw us off the trail. The whole town's worked up about it. So is the Sheriff, and so am I. We want that killer, Joe, we want him bad!”
“I know how you feel,” I said. “I liked Otto, too. I guess everybody did.” My voice sounded all right. It was calm enough.
The Sheriff raised his head. “The point Ray's trying to make, Joe, is that we can't overlook a thing, no matter how small, if there is a chance in a million it might help us. That's the reason we're here.”
“I understand, Otis.”
“Well, here it is. The day before the robbery you were out to the box factory, weren't you?”
So that was it. “That's right,” I said. “I stopped by to pay Pat Sully some money I owed him.”
“So Pat told me. Joe, were you going somewhere else and just happened to drop by, or did you make a special trip just to see Pat?”
“Why, I guess I made the trip special. I was downtown and just happened to think of it—that's the way I do things sometimes.” I didn't like the way this was going. I couldn't tell where it was leading or what they were thinking. They just sat there dead-faced, their eyes expressionless.
“Now tell me this, Joe. Did you notice anything out of the way while you were out there that day?”
I could hear my heart pounding. “What do you mean, Sheriff?”
“I mean you used to work at the box factory and were pretty familiar with the place. You knew all the people, the buildings. It occurred to me that a person who hadn't been out there for a while might notice something that people who work there every day might pass by. I just want to know if you noticed anything out of the way, no matter how small—something that might help us.”
I made a show of thinking it over. “I'm sorry, Sheriff, I can't think of a thing.”
“Tell me just what you did while you were out there.”
“Did? Well, not much. I just went in and gave Pat the money I owed him and left. I wasn't there more than two or three minutes.”
“I see.” Otis took off his Stetson and wiped the sweat-band with his handkerchief. “Well, it was just a chance. I've talked to everybody at the factory, and they're not much help. There's one more thing, Joe, if you don't mind.”
“Sure.”
“It's out there in the car. I want you to take a look at something.”
What was he getting at now? Was it a trick? Was he beginning to suspect something or was it just routine? I felt as though my nerve ends had worked to the top of my skin. If anybody had touched me I'd have yelled.
But I managed to keep a straight face as we filed out of the cabin. Ike Abrams was standing at the corner of the station, watching us, and Otis called to him. “Come on back here, Ike, if you're not busy.” And then he opened the car door and there it was, on the floor.
The flywheel that I had tied to the body.
“Have you ever seen this before, Joe?”